


How to Friendship

by WaltzQueen



Series: Dream Mom [2]
Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Robert being Robert, oc is a writer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 04:06:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11912871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaltzQueen/pseuds/WaltzQueen
Summary: You are afraid of Robert and Maryfor two very different reasons





	How to Friendship

You and Mat get along well, which shocks no one who knows you both. Mat's disarming honesty pretty much guarantees that he'll be liked by half of the city, even if the honesty was forced out via a nerdy ramble. It's less that it endears him to you and more that people like that can rarely hide anything that's on their mind. The accidental nature of the transparency makes it all the more genuine and gosh do you appreciate it more than you can say. After a month you have your own little booth in the back corner where you can see the door for the few times you come in. You stays at home more often than not, typing away at the desktop computer or on the typewriter you bought to feel fancy and sophisticated. Look everyone has vices okay, some just came with carbon paper attached.

You come in one morning, when Mat's still setting up, to stretch your "being out in public muscles" (this is cheating because it'll only be you and Mat in the store, but you take what you can get) when you see that you're not the only one there. Mary and Robert are sitting at the little table with a glass top that you think is nice to look at but just asking for an accident. Mary  sips a glass or orange juice, with one hand fiddling with a pair of shades on her head.She says something and Robert laughs, downing the rest of his glass and pouring another. They both hold themselves with a looseness you recognize from your college days. That's probably not just orange juice, because those two are buzzed at the very least.

They're far enough away that they don't see you yet. You can escape back to the sublime comforts of your house and your daughter and your shitty windows desktop. But, you did want to interact with at least one human today. And you do kind of need to do that homework the shrink assigned. You're racked with indecision but you can't stay there and your window to escape is closing and your creepiness is increasing exponentially the longer you stand there. You think of what Alex would say at you standing at the street corner like a scared cat and decide to head over.

"Look Robert, it's the new kid." Mary tips her vodka-orange juice at you in a gesture somewhere between a friendly greeting and a kid at the zoo pointing at a tropical bird. "Gene, wasn't it?" Well fuck, you'd made the decision to come over here without even having a game plan.

"Uh,yeah. I'm Gene." You feel like a school kid, tucking your spiral notebook of plot points against your chest in a fit of hopeless awkwardness. "Didn't mean to interrupt. I'm just ...here for .....Mat?" That felt like a question and apparently it sounded like a question to them because they raise their eyebrows like they were born in synch. You can't raise a single eyebrow like that. Not fair, being better at socialization AND eyebrow lifting. Who do they think they are, hogging all the talent? Your concern with their eyebrows drops when Mary smiles knowingly.

"Oh? Here for Mat are you?" The implication comes through loud and clear.

"I mean, I-I sit..uh..." Mary takes pity on you and doesn't go for what you recognize is prime bait.  "I write here sometimes." 

"A writer, huh? Better job than being a pastor's wife."

"Better than my job." Robert's nursing his glass of orange juice and vodka, staring straight at you. He is just daring the question to be asked, and at a loss for what else to say, you take the bait.

"What is your job?"

"Murder." _What?!_

"What?!" Robert continues on, unaware of your desire to take a step back.

"I served some time in the clink for petty larceny, you know, small time stuff when I met Big Rico. Well, Big Rico wasn't in there for small time stuff. Big Rico was part of an operation. Big Rico wasn't getting out any time soon and I owed him for some help with a soup can so I offered to send a message for him to anyone on the outside he wanted. One thing led to another and now I carry at least four knives on me at all times."

You stand there in shock and not a little terror. There's really nothing you can say to that.

"Heh, just kidding ya. I don't murder people." Your terror isn't gone but now it's heavily tempered by confusion. "I didn't lie about the knives, though." Oh god, oh god, he's reaching into his pocket. You really don't wanna die here. Amanda isn't in college yet. You never got to own a motorcycle.This was a huge mistake.

 You choose the option of smart women the world over and make a break for it. Mary and Robert shout for you to hold on as you dash down the sidewalk. You hear Mat ask what's going on behind you as you turn the corner but you're not sticking around to explain. You trip and your back protests the sudden jerk you do to remain standing. You may loose a couple pages of your manuscript on the way home but it's better than a couple pints of blood.  
  
It's a while before you make a second attempt to go to the Coffee Spoon. You turn the corner and see Mat standing out front, just sticking his key into the lock. He looks up as you approach.  
"Uh, hey, Gene. How's it going?"

  
"I'm really good." You aren't even lying. Amanda woke you up with french toast after last nights Long Haul Paranormal Ice Road Ghost Truckers marathon. You submitted your latest chapter to your editor on schedule.  Your Team won Sport game. Amanda and the Emmas are all going to have a sleep over and you have the night for yourself. Your day is looking up, but since you have the communication skills of a rotting log it's just 'really good.' "And you?"

"It's a nice day,but it's morning so.." Mat shrugs good-naturedly and holds the door to The Coffee Spoon open for you. You slip in behind him and he locks it again. You sit in your booth, with the dark brown vinyl and the discoloration on the edge of the table. It feels good to have this little anchor, the feeling of sitting down in a familiar place and getting down to work.

  
You spend a while running through the notes your editor made. The entire thing is more red ink than black and you're sure that if you weren't a seasoned pro at this, you'd be running for the hills at the sight. You uncap your tricolor pen, a glorious holdover from the early 2000's, and click to the blue setting. You go through the eviscerated manuscript, circling the few parts that your editor wholeheartedly liked (which are identifiable only by the small text reading "don't make this worse" next to sections) with blue before you start over again with the black pen, making strategic strike-throughs and question marks. Throughout, you absentmindedly take a sip from the coffee mug to the right of the pile of papers. It never gets all the way empty and you never even notice.  
You aren't the greatest at time or paying attention because when you look up, it's three hours later and the shop is bustling with life. The one green haired teen is behind the counter, where he is temporarily unable to try and pressure you into listening to his latest mix-tape or EP or whatever teens with weird music styles were calling it now. While that was great, you lost your flow, which wasn't great. Any hope of achieving any work for the rest of the day went out the window and ran down the street the moment you checked your phone. Not one to lie to yourself, you gather all your papers into an orderly pile where they will stay until you're ready to go. You sip on what is likely to be your last cup of coffee until you get home as you look forward unseeingly and enjoy the ambient sounds.

You take a sip, breathe a sigh of satisfaction. You set down your cup with a nice clunk. The sound is repeated a second later. You jump in such a manner prime for spilling coffee all over yourself and your precious revised chapter. Thankfully for you and Mary, she waited until you had none to invade the tiny kingdom that is your booth in the corner. You do some split second calculations in your head to see how difficult it would be to get past her. Unfortunately, you're a writer, not a calculus professor and Mary and other women like her always have a look about them that says that getting away when they have their claws in you is a matter of rocket science, at the very minimum. You are still trying to think up something to say when Mary frees you from your awkwardness purgatory.

  
"You didn't wait, last time. So I brought the party to you." She swirls the coffee around in a dangerously vigorous manner.You do your best not to grimace and look to where Mat occasionally comes out of the kitchen, only to see him talking with Carmensita. Your help will not be forth coming.. "Let's get down to brass tacks, Genie. You're the only mom in the neighborhood and we haven't gone shopping yet." You kiss your hopes of going home within an hour goodbye, because you know and she knows you're not getting out of this one. Thus begins a friendship that you will later say you were kind of pulled into unwillingly.


End file.
